‘I’ve been thinking about the cookbook I used to talk about writing,’ Anna told Cathy, during one of their chats via the new wi-fi that she’d had installed in the Fishergirl’s Luck, on the basis that any holiday let would need one. ‘Maybe I should work on that. The problem is that all the recipes I have at the moment would be ones I’ve cooked at the Four Seasons.’

‘Then start cooking new stuff,’ Cathy advised her. ‘You’ve got a kitchen there, right? What about all these new neighbour friends you’ve made? I bet they’d all jump at the chance to have you make them a meal.’

Anna looked around the Fishergirl’s Luck. ‘The place is so small, though. There’s not much room for entertaining.’

‘I’m sure they’ll understand if you have them over two at a time. They know how big the place is, after all. I think the cookbook is a great idea – it’ll give you a chance to work out exactly what sort of food you want to cook, for one thing, won’t it? That’d help when you do start looking for another job.’

‘You’re right, it would.’

‘Of course I’m right. I’m always right. Don’t you know that by now?’

Anna smiled. ‘Sorry, I’d forgotten.’

‘Pfft,’ was Cathy’s parting shot. ‘Don’t let it happen again. Oh, and please, please, please email me the recipe for the chocolate and pistachio roulade thing you make. I’m going insane without it.’

Anna asked Pat and Frank to be her first guests, both because they were the closest and because she still felt indebted to them after all their hospitality, not that they would see it as something that would need repaying. The more Anna saw of them, the more she loved them.

‘Are you free tomorrow?’ she asked Pat, as they sat having another of their now customary cups of afternoon tea.

‘We’ve actually got guests arriving in the evening, would you believe it,’ said Pat. ‘They want a bite to eat when they get here. Sorry.’

‘How about lunch instead?’ Anna asked.

‘Lunch would be lovely, if you’re sure it’s not going to put you out too much.’

‘Of course not,’ Anna said. ‘It’s not as if I’ve got any pressing engagements, is it? Is there anything either of you don’t eat?’

‘No, we’re both pretty easy to please.’

‘I’d like to cook fish, if that’s okay with both of you,’ Anna added. ‘I’d rather get it from a local supplier than off a shelf at Tesco, though. Do you have any suggestions?’

Pat considered. ‘Well, there’s no local fishmonger anymore,’ she said. ‘But the Gamrie boys still ice their catches at Gardenstown before it gets taken for processing at Fraserburgh.’